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red dust

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“Each animal has its own strength.” She insisted. “And if the rooster were provoked. It would kill a snake.”

Cups for Saucers

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They were everywhere walking right above us or so it seemed, back and forth, back and forth with their lousy, crunching heels making hollow chewed up noises that took all the sweet sounds left on earth and had them march along…

Assiduity Ten

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I'm using a 16mm motion picture camera with sound on film, equipped with a magazine holding six hundred feet, giving me approximately fifteen minutes of continuous shooting. Uzma has changed her cloths again. She's dressed for working in the garden, wearing a white…

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 10

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Sounds terrific, but are there any strings attached?

Red Sky at Night

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Floating in liquor only to drown the next morning.

The Gentleman on the Train

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The gentleman is discreet, but his eyes wander from his paper at intervals as we travel together from London to Manchester. We happen to be on the same train and he happens to be sitting opposite me. I happen to be a size 34C.

The Amber Sea

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There is no life here, only a bleak slab of frozen desert and a sorrowful wind that calls for me to venture out.

Leaking

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The bathroom faucet is leaking again. Do they make diapers for faucets?

Leftovers

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That evening she sat on sofa and sniffled and twisted her handkerchief with her fingers. I decided it wasn't the right time to show her the picture....

The Wooden City

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Ah, how sweet is forbidden fruit, how delicious undiscovered sin!

Blood on Her Hands

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Only blood I got on me was pulling him over onto my seat when I got out.

The Cost of Love

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I was, so I was told, the product of much hard work and a lot of invasive procedures. Initially, I'm sure my parents were making love, but then came the slog, the repeated failed attempts at getting one of mother's millions of eggs fertilized. Those tadpoles just couldn't…

Cry Baby Cry

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The baby will not stop crying. He’s been crying for three hours straight. I’m the worst mother ever. What kind of mother can’t soothe her own baby? The bad kind.

Rock, Roll, et al.

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She looks for the obit, can't find. Over and over, looks. Nothing. Nothing except something touching her shoulder. Follow me. Corridors, doors, along and along, no time to notice that this last is the stage door — she was so suddenly there in the blare and…

Wallflower

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It was one of those weekday mornings in early spring when Marjorie and I could wander from chapel to chapter house with only security guards for company.

Season's End

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Just drank / The last of the eggnog

77 Words Sparked by Insomnia

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Mice dreams are a reality ...

THUNDERSNOW

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I know who done it. Them goddamn taters. I walked around the yard and started picking up pieces of the camaro, wondering if, from above, they’d laid the parts out into some kinda cult symbols or something.

Love in the Time of Ebola

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Me: In my orange hazmat, the one that makes my eyes look intensely blue.Him: His flexi-human-hamster ball. Fun, but a bit informal for a first date, I think.We're outside because doorways are not easy for him. After some impromptu rounds of bumper balls on the square, he…

Bad Ideas I've Had

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Not all ideas are bad, just mine.

Saved

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I woke up pissed off—like that feeling you get when you take a long nap in the afternoon. Except instead of being on a couch or a bed, I was trapped in a mashed-up Honda on I-75.

Assiduity Seventeen

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In the darkness, as I awaken, an orange glowing 3:45 greets me . . .

Christmas

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First of all, there was no snow. I seem to remember that. And there was no Christmas tree in the house.

Ghosts

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"Yes. It was moving, and not along the ground, either. We were. . . looking toward the cemetery, and the ghost or whatever was clearly visible. . ."

Home Land

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At times we rarely desire to be where we are at home quite as much as we desire to be where we are no longer.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 4

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He arrived at Bellevue hospital in a straight jacket bound to a gurney.

The Nude Pianist: A Novel: Chapter 52

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In his dreamlike state the pianist turned into a preying mantis.

He Doesn't Poke Her Any More

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It was over.

Cheap Date

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Lady, if I were going to hire a whore, it wouldn't have been you.

The Conversation

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Listening is loving. What is more erotic than these fathoms, skeins, words, roping tight the ardent ear.